I cast a spell (rewrite)
by asu02
Summary: Sweetie sweetie, I really care about you. Sweetie sweetie, I'll never let you go. (rewrite of I cast a spell, an Asulili Fanfiction I wrote a year ago of the same name.)
1. (How do you like me now?)

**A.N: Hi! First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for clicking on this. You might know me as KokoroDouglas on here, and about a year ago, I wrote an asulili fic by the same title. Asulili as a ship has stuck with me a long time; earlier today, I stumbled across said fic. It was...embarrassing, to say the least. For some reason though, it seemed to be pretty popular for the five chapters I had uploaded. Um, I'm sorry for abandoning it! My plan here is to re write all five chapters, and hopefully continue the fic to where I want it to be. It. Will. Definitely. Be. Finished. There were two songs I listened to and modeled this chapter after- the first part would be ****_Radio _****by Lana del Rey and the second would be ****_I would do anything for you _****by Foster the People. Listen to them while reading or after i guess! Hopefully this too will be something I'll do with every chapter. If you have any questions or would like to talk about this fic or anything in particular, leave me a review or visit my tumblr (ask for it)! reviews, favorites, and follows are all really appreciated and let me know that people ****_are _****reading this so please do so if you want more! Enough with the long AN, let's get on with the yuri hehe/**

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1— take me like a vitamin

_** Oo la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time than I've ever known.**_

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Lili's eyes focused and unfocused at the canopy above her, pleats and tucks directly in her line of sight. The dark bruise under the crease of her left eye just recently reached the point where it only hurt if provoked; it stained her pale skin similar to the way you would find on a rotten fruit: disgusting, really.

The four poster bed she lay on was the center of the room that was the embodiment of wealth; delicate lace sheets pooled onto the marble floor, and piles of stuffed animals adorned every corner. Those, she refused to leave behind. According to her father, she had long since outgrown the pink pink _pink_ness of her old room. _It wasn't appropriate _for someone at the ripe age of sixteen (going on seventeen, mind you.); _It didn't look like the room of a daughter who would soon inherit a conglomerate and millions upon millions of bills and coins, checks and cards, in every currency imaginable. _It was a boring room. Lili Rochefort was tired of white sheets, tired of white marble, _tired_ of cream curtains, and, god forbid, tired of her father.

The blonde ran her fingers over numerous cuts and bruises not unlike the one on her face; the softer injuries would heal if taken care of properly, and the harder and deeper ones would leave scars regardless of how careful she was. Lili frowned. _'Wouldn't it be nice,' _She turned over with a wince, pain accelerating her mind like an injection to the bloodstream, _'…If _all_ these ugly scars actually faded like they were supposed to?' _

Several old wounds and scars remained on her figure, painting her back, wrists, and knees with a splash of color; the direct result of pursuing a hobby less than befitting for a young lady of her status. The art of clashing bodies and how-to-inflict-a-wound-how-to-break-a-bone were more like _her, _no matter how much Lili thought about it. More appropriate for a girl with short, dark hair. It _looked _better on a girl with lean muscle decorating her tan arms, and Asuka Kazama certainly _did _it better. Every single one of the Monegasque's lingering battle scars were all left behind by Asuka Kazama; and it was frustrating as hell that Lili couldn't return the favor.

For years and years and years the blonde had endured this pain for her father, the sake of the company, his health, his pride. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that her whole life was nothing more than a ploy to get his attention— and for what? Five minutes of his time, a scolding, a thank you? Her hopes were high at the beginning of her first tournament; she _really _believed with all of her heart and soul. _Really _believed that she could change the fate of the company, which was tied to _his _fate; which in turn, was tied to her own. And to an extent, she did change it. Something changed in her the second she lost to Asuka Kazama in the fifth tournament. The fight itself was nothing particularly special; all Asuka was to her at that time was a girl who was, for better or worse, tougher than her. Maybe it was her stance, or the way she sacrificed speed for heavier movement, and consequently, heavier strikes. She wasn't anything worth thinking about until the blonde lay defeated on the ground, brunette poking her side. After that, it became _one more strike, one more fight, another chance to see her, another chance to touch her._

That was, no doubt, a change in motive. The point where everything changed— was it enough to be called l-l-lov—e—-?

"If I were to see her again." She spoke aloud; Lili's voice filled the cold air of the room like liquid chocolate. "L-let's say, if I were to see her again, I wouldn't mind…trying to get along with her. To g-get along with Asuka Kazama…it would be pleasant beyond what words could convey. Perhaps, if I got close enough to her…I could call her 'Asuka'?" The mere thought was enough to make the Monegasque's body flush as if it were in a fever. Grabbing hold of a pillow and straightening her posture, she continued with her train of thought regardless of what it might put her body through. "W-we would go to a mall together, e-eat a lunch of whatever's popular with the girls at her school..after that, she'd grab my hand with hers and we'd trip over each other walking to her house." _Or. She'd bring her bicycle and you could hold onto her waist… _A head of thick strands flew into the pillow, mind racing; "A-after that. I'd make her go somewhere I wanted to. Somewhere nice. I'd get to see her in a dress, and I'd make her thank me—"

"Mademoiselle Lili?" Two rhythmic taps against wood snapped Lili out of her trance. The door did not open; Sebastian was a well mannered man. He knew better than to open the door after knocking, opting to wait for his mistress's response. He had grown accustomed to Emilie over the time he had spent with her as a servant— the entirety of her life. Wherever she was, he was close behind. Wherever the young lady went, he followed. To do so was not only his duty, but his joy. "Excuse me for interrupting you, but I've bought the lemon solution you requested to lighten your scars. I've also fetched creams from five different brands. Is this an acceptable time?"

_'Calm down, Lili. Sebastian didn't hear. He didn't hear. He didn't hear. He didn't hear. He didn't hear he didn't hear he didn't hear he didn't hear—' _The fighter cleared her throat as if flushing the earlier thoughts down the drain, as if flipping the switch to a different self, a different presentation. Lili picked up the iced tea she rested on her nightstand, anything to further compose herself, anything to draw attention away from the words she spoke so gingerly earlier.

"Sebastian. You may come in."

The butler entered the door with long strides, balancing Lili's wishes on a metal tray. This, he was used to— the active life of a butler had kept his body in tip-top shape, his being not seeming to recognize the fact that he was getting older with every passing millisecond; yet another thing of inexplicable value he owed to his lady. She had been the one generous enough to ask so much of him and give him so much in return; she had been the one to teach him bits and pieces of her martial art with the patience saints would be jealous of.

_'In case you'll ever need it. To protect you.'_

"My dearest apologies, Miss Lili. My presence was requested long ago."

Lili stood and joined him at the two stools adjacent her vanity; a ritual of sorts, Sebastian applying lemon solution and various creams to her scars in hope that they would fade— he would clean and dress every one of her wounds, scolding her for the cuts she inflicted on herself. This is how it was done since the first time she scraped her knee at the age of four; and so, it would continue. _'If he heard,' _Lili bit her lip. _'…he certainly isn't dropping any hints.'_

"Sebastian, I do not mind. You are free to come whenever you can manage it. Despite how I might act sometimes, you are under no obligation to follow everyone of my orders."

"Under most circumstances, I would not be able to accept those words." A smile. The smile she had known all her life, a smile she could forgive everything with. "I saw that you were passing the time quite efficiently."

Explosions of color lit up Emilie de Rochefort's face like fireworks.

* * *

"…Do you think…I would be able to see her again?"

"Mademoiselle, if you are referring to Miss Asuka, it's been only been four months." Sebastian frowned as he placed bandages over the blonde's knee; two, specifically, criss-crossed just as she liked them.

"C-can something still be arranged? With father…?"

"For you, Miss, it _can_ be arranged. The Master will not be pleased, but it can be done. Even if we are not permitted to, it's your permission I need, and your calls I answer to. Nevertheless, I will ask him. First class? Or… will you take one of the private jets?"

Again with that smile. Lili returned it with her own.

"It would be preferred if we could leave by noon tomorrow."

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**A.N: And there we have it! I wrote this all in one go, and hopefully it wasn't too noticeable. Updates should be either weekly or bi weekly, but I'd like to hit a certain amount of reviews before I continue - so if you want more, hit that review button and type something out ;)**


	2. Everywhere, everyone knows it's me

**A.N: Um. Wow. I really kept you guys waiting long enough for this. Anyways, this story can now be found on AO3 as well, ( /works/2568221/chapters/5739503) so check it out if you prefer it that way? I listened to _Recover_ by CHVRCHES while writing this chapter. Enjoy!**

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2- Everywhere, everyone knows it's me.

_**I'll give you one more chance  
To say we can change our old ways**_

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The previous night and the early hours of the morning were exhausting for both the caretaker and the mistress; clothes for god-knows-how-long were ironed and folded into sets of twelve, eight done by Sebastian's hand and four by Lili's (convincing him to let her help ate up another half hour of time— it was _Lili _that wanted to go on this 'trip', so, putting her father's plan to have her mature as a person into use, she took it upon herself to at least lessen her companion's burden). Arguments with her father were fought via téléphone, "_What do you mean 'I can't go to Osaka again'", "Why do you insist on having me call you? You're…— you're three floors and a bedroom up, for heaven's sake!" "Father, I hate you. I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me!",_ followed by overlays of "_Mademoiselle Lili, which stuffed animals do you want me to take as your carry on items?"_

By the time they found themselves in their respective seats on board the aircraft, the pair were utterly exhausted. The seats were not the ones they paid for. Either there had been a sudden onset of people _dying_ to make their way to Kansai International Airport as fast as humanly possible, or the airline had issued out more tickets than they had space— in any case, Emilie de Rochefort and her faithful steward Sebastian found themselves approximately three aisles apart, the sweet, alien comfort of working class caressing the blonde's thighs.

Slender fingers pushed oversized sunglasses over her head before massaging her close-by left temple; Lili tried her best to stare her message into the back of Sebastian's head—

_He wouldn't let us take the private jet._

_He wouldn't let us take the private jet._

_He wouldn't let us take the private jet._

_He wouldn't let us take th—_

A well placed jab to the side animated her once again; the action was quickly followed by several tugs to the hem of her gray tank. Small hands wrapped around the article of clothing, those she perceived to belong to someone a little older than five.

"Hey, Big Sis."

The monegasque forced herself to look at the surrounding passengers for the first time. Lili sat at the end of the middle row, the little girl who spoke out earlier to her direct left, a business man in a button-up reading the flight magazine another space over. "Hey…are you listening?" the voice called out once again. The fighter turned at the torso, facing the child; perhaps the little one was attracted to the natural elegance that seeped out into the atmosphere through the holes in her aura? The numerous skills she was born with? Her paralyzing beauty?

Lili composed herself, making sure to keep her voice as cheery and as suitable for the situation as possible— she didn't even want to think about what happened the _last_ time she interacted with a child. She switched her tongue to standard Japanese; if she was to get ready for various encounters with Asuka Kazama, she might as well start now. "Ah, yes! You'll have to excuse me for my rude behavior. What is it?" Cobalt eyes blinked twice, staring into her. The child was clearly proceeding with caution; black pigtails sprouted out from either side of her head. Someone returning home.

"I was just wondering why your face looks like that."

Lili Rochefort would be calm. She would remain calm through this. _This…child does not know any better. Because…she is a child. Just a child._

"L-like…what? Is there something on my face?" Lili couldn't help but grin triumphantly after speaking; an uncomfortable contrast to the words she had spoken.

_'It may not seem like it, but I've already memorized and learned the basics of the Japanese language, including but not limited to these types of phrases. This should make you understand your mistake. Are you stunned? Surprised? My knowledge is akin that of an infinity pool—'_

"_Like_," The girl emphasized her words with the swing of her legs, rhythmically hitting the occupied seat in front of her. "Why your hair is all yellow and stuff. And why your eyes are all blue like that. And." A pause. "Um…oh, right. Why you're so tall?"

Lili breathed out a sigh of relief. '_That's right! That's really all it was. How foolish of me.'_

"Petite fille. First, tell me your name." Lili almost scolded herself for exposing her french roots through language; the switch back to japanese was a struggle, tongue stumbling back into the correct form.

"You speak funny," Another pause, this one lasting a whole note rest. "…Not telling."

The young lady made a mental note to try and stay on the girl's good side— the remarks tinted with a special sort of childlike cruelty could later be traded for easier communication with her beloved.

"Then, what am I supposed to call you?"

The girl analyzed her vibrant pink nails, rotating her hand at the wrist this way and that.

"…Bartholomew."

And so, the fourteen hour flight to Osaka began.

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Lili and Sebastian stumbled into the terminal, reuniting with a glance and a slight bow from the latter after swimming through the sea of people exiting the aircraft. The majority of Lili's side of the flight resulted in chatting and gossiping with "Bartholomew"; she would show the blonde the array of stuffed animals she had bought with her, to which the fighter replied by pulling out a miniature owl (she always kept it handy during travel; for good luck) out of her handbag with a grin. By the end of the journey, the two were sleeping next to each other, sharing a blanket the color of pale sunshine. Lili saw her off at the gate, Bartholomew waving goodbye to her with her free left hand— the other was held by a woman in a business suit.

_'What a striking little girl,' _It had been more than forty minutes since then; Sebastian accompanied her in their short excursion out of the airport, attracting a number of stares along the way. It was then that the butler said something that broke her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian, could you repeat that?"

The butler adjusted his frames, shuffling through the papers in his hands with every stride he took, hoping to find the sheet he had track of just a moment ago. His mistress had offered to take half of them— and god forbid, all of them— a multitude of times. Needless to say, Sebastian had refused. He would do the errands, the simple things, just as he always did; Miss Lili was to focus only on her goal. He would not let anything as thin as paper get in her way.

"Very well. Excuse me, then. According to Miss Kazama's school website, she leaves school at four thirty everyday— she doesn't seem to be in any clubs. Would you like me to call the limousine that's been prepared to let the chauffeur know that we're arriving?"

Blue eyes shimmered for a moment, freshly glossed lips turning up at the corners before verbalizing a reply. "No, there's no need for that," Lili pursed her lips before continuing, evening out the sparkly layer. A sudden burst of confidence washed over her; the first part of her plan was in motion, and she had the person she trusted the most in the world to help her go through with it.

"Wouldn't it be so much more _stimulating _to catch her off guard in her moment of weakness? Asuka Kazama biking home, the orange sunset behind her; thoughts faraway as she remains completely oblivious of my forthcoming attacks."

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Asuka Kazama had been out of school for no longer than twenty minutes before she had found trouble; they came in the form of petty thieves, and dumb ones at that. Who in their right mind _still _attempts to steal a schoolgirl's bag? As far as she was concerned, people stopped pulling that one five years ago. It wasn't long before the group was splattered on the ground, all but piled on top of each other. "Funny,_" _The girl mused. "They were a lot tougher than they looked."

Don't get her wrong— she wasn't complimenting them. Frankly, they looked scrawny as hell; the type of guys Asuka could snap in half between her pinkie and ring finger. That's why she was surprised after one of them had managed to struggle back up after a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus, mumbling something about how she had dirtied his dress pants before promptly falling back over. Asuka had seen that kind of resolve and stamina among her eighth kyū students— it was expected to be a basic skill after that.

Athletic legs clad in crew socks worked their way up the hill of the riverbank. Asuka wasn't sure how they had gotten there in the first place; she left them to lie there, admiring the peach soda sunset at her side, mind floating adrift with thoughts of what _amazing_ instant food she would have to eat this time around.

_'Why am I thinking about that now? That's after I have to sub the kids' lesson again.' _Yeah, right. That's if she could even call it 'subbing'. It was more like she had taken over the dojo as it's new successor.

Asuka thought back to the morning she had found the post-it note suck to her breakfast, protected from the elements with plastic wrap. Sirens went off in her head almost immediately; where was her father, and why had he wrapped a couple of omelettes and have them stored instead of being there to grace the kitchen upon her awakening? How long had he been gone? The student took a deep breath before picking up the note with steady hands— she was more than sure she knew what this was about. The dojo had been struggling financially for months; not to mentions they had been waiting for the new shipments of foot guards for over two weeks. That mean one of two things:

1. They were completely goddamn broke. The foot guards couldn't cost anymore than 7,000 yen at most. Just how the hell were they staying alive?

2. Her father was either unable to of refused to pay the bill.

The note itself was painfully short— It almost felt as if it lacked the weight necessary for the expected contents. Regardless, Asuka could feel it weigh her down within the pockets of her pleated skirt. Every rustle sounded like a wave crashing against the shore; Asuka sighed as she pulled it out for what seemed to be the twenty-fifth time. The neon green hue was accentuated by the sun, making her all to aware of how deep his indentations were. He was so stupid, really.

_'Asuka. I'll be gone for an uncertain amount of time. It's the dojo's debt. Take care of everything— there should be a decent amount of food in the pantry.'_

The fighter crumpled the note up for the last time before tossing it into a trashcan. "God. There's no reason for him to act like that when it's clear he's scared out of his pants."

Asuka hummed to herself for a while; if only she had her bike. _Where had that gone to? _She would have been home by now with it's help.

"…Must be nice to have money like blondie during times like these."

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**A.N: Thank you so much for sticking around with this fic! Any reviews, follows, and favorites would be greatly appreciated. Feel free to leave suggestions as well!**


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